


Darling

by unsettled



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Community: sherlockkink, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicholas laughs into his neck, silent huffs of warm air, and Henry sighs and tangles their legs together, resigned to cold toes for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this kinkmeme prompt: _GIVE ME MY FLUFF, BETCHES. I don't know, I just have a soft spot for Blackwood having a soft spot for Coward :&gt; Like he's all FIRE AND BRIMSTONE to everyone else, and then he's just totally whipped for Coward :DD_ And oh, god, the fluff. Sorry, world.

The bed shifts as Nicholas rolls away, lifting the covers to sharply cold air. Henry turns his head to follow him, luxuriating in the long stretch of Nicholas's back, the shift of his hips as he strides across the room. "What are you doing?" he asks, lazily.

"Poking the fire," Nicholas replies over his shoulder. He adds more wood, then turns back to the bed, and Henry thinks this is an even lovelier sight. "You know, this house may be steeped in hundreds of years of dark rites, but it's utter bollocks at heating."

Henry rolls his eyes at Nicholas's petulant tone as he slides back into bed, curling toward Henry, and then, "Your feet are cold," Henry tells him. Nicholas blinks at him, settling his chin more firmly into Henry's shoulder, and runs a teasing, chilled foot along the inside of Henry's calf, and he definitely did not make that sound, because Lord Blackwood is not prone to undignified squeaks, not under any circumstances. Nicholas laughs into his neck, silent huffs of warm air, and Henry sighs and tangles their legs together, resigned to cold toes for a while.

"Sorry," Nicholas says, hardly repentant at all, and Henry slides his hand up from where it has been absently stroking the small of Nicholas's back to thread through dark hair. Nicholas smiles against his skin, and continues. "Darling."

Henry tightens his hand in Nicholas's hair warningly. "Don't call me that," he says, and it's not quite as harsh as he meant it to be.

Nicholas tilts his head to look at him from too close, through mere slits of eyes. "As you wish," he whispers, as breathy and sincere as anything Henry has ever heard. "Darling."

Henry releases a short, irritated breath, and shakes Nicholas's head gently, then releases his hold to run his fingers down the curve of Nicholas's face, and Nicholas leans into his touch with a sigh and a smile.


End file.
